Order “Stomp Out Cancer Volume 2: HOPE”

Filed under CD Volume 2 by Jake Wheat on 28-10-2008

AS SEEN ON WHAS 11 NEWS!

Stomp Out Cancer Presents "Musicians Fight Ewing’s Sarcoma: HOPE" - the second volume of our series in fund raising CD’s.

This CD includes tracks from musicians all over the World who have come together to contribute their music to help us raise money for children with Ewing’s Sarcoma.

The funds we raise from our CD sales will go to the John Hopkins Sarcoma Research Center, so they can fund research into less toxic treatment methods, and early detection methods - and to possibly find a cure!  Ben Lanman, who this CD is in tribute to - was a patient there, and we are happy to report that he is free from Ewing’s Sarcoma, and is a happy healthy 10 year old boy!  Ben turned 11 years old on the day that our Volume 2 CD released, and we hope that you will order your copy today so that we can make Ewing’s Sarcoma a thing of the past.

Please click the link below to order your CD from PayPal!  If you do not wish to submit your payment through PayPal, please send a certified check or money order to:

Stomp Out Cancer, Inc.
PO Box 216
Fairdale, Kentucky 40118


Are you missing your copy of Volume 1?

You may order our Volume 1 CD from CDBaby.com by clicking here.  There are limited quantities available of our first volume, and once those physical CD’s are gone, we will only have the digital version for sale!  Get your physical CD while you can!

LISTEN TO SAMPLES FROM THE NEW VOLUME 2 CD IN THE PLAYER BELOW!  Note: These are 90 second streaming quality samples, for demo purposes only!

 
icon for podpress  Volume 2 "Hope" Song SAMPLES [23:50m]: Play Now | Play in Popup

A Day Of Remembrance. A Day Of Hope.

Filed under CD Volume 2, Jake's Notes, Steven Mackin Memories, Stomp Out Cancer Board Memo by Jake Wheat on 28-10-2008

For friends and family of Steven Michael Mackin, today is a day of remembrance.  On October 28th, 2006 - Steven passed away from Ewing’s Sarcoma and today marks the second anniversary of his death.

As we move into two years of Steven’s passing, a lot of mourning and sadness has passed - along with the introduction of new positive things that we can reflect on as well.  Stomp Out Cancer has grown by leaps and bounds, and we continue to live through Steven fighting to raise money to help stop Ewing’s Sarcoma.  Steven was afraid that he had not left his mark on the World, but that is far from reality.  Steven Mackin has inspired, created, and provided us with the strength to find Hope for others who are fighting cancer.  Steven is our continued motivation.

Today, Stomp Out Cancer is mailing a check to The Sidney Kimmel Comprehensive Cancer Center At John Hopkins (here) for $5,000.00.  This, along with many more payments to come will go to assist Dr. David Loeb and his research staff work to find less toxic treatment methods and early detection tests for Ewing’s Sarcoma - and push further for a cure.

Today is also a special day for us, because our Volume 2 CD is now OFFICIALLY available.  The CD is titled "Hope," in tribute to Ben Lanman, a very brave young man who had Ewing’s Sarcoma and is now (through the care of Dr. David Loeb and his staff) celebrating his eleventh birthday today! 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEN!!!

It is true that good things can come from the worst of times, and while we miss Steven every day - we are thankful for the many blessings that we have received from so many caring people.  Kindness through donations, sponsorships, and volunteer work have pushed us farther than we ever could have imagined.  We have made new friends and loved ones, and we have found the courage to continue forward for our cause - to put an end to this horrible disease.

Thank you to everyone who has helped us with our mission, you are truly the special ones and you will bring "Hope." 

We love you Steven.

Sincerely,
The Stomp Out Cancer Board

StevenIsLove

$5,000+ Raised From Weekend Events!

Filed under Press Releases, Public Events by Jake Wheat on 26-10-2008

Stomp Out Cancer had two big events this weekend!  On Friday night, VilleRadio.com Hosted the Stomp Out Cancer Benefit Rock Concert, which drew in a large crowd!  Special thanks to Wes, Tim, and all of the crew and sponsors for making that event a huge success!  Saturday night’s event was the Benefit Dance & Silent Auction in Bardstown, Kentucky!  Lots of friends, family, and supporters showed up to make that night a tremendous success!  The total amount raised from both events was over $5,000!

Special thanks to all the hard working people, sponsors, and friends who made this evening a big success!  If you would like to see photos from the events - please click here!

100% of the proceeds raised from our events goes to The Sidney Kimmel Comprehensive Cancer Center At John Hopkins (here) - and we are still raising money by selling our Volume 2 CD!  [Volume 1 is now on sale here as well....]

Again, our sincere thanks to everyone!  You truly have created the opportunity for "Hope" - and we can’t thank you enough!

mp3grams

 
icon for podpress  102.7 PSA [1:00m]: Play Now | Play in Popup

Liv Lanman Raises $100.00 For Stomp Out Cancer

Filed under General Updates, Jake's Notes by Jake Wheat on 22-06-2008

Nothing stops Liv Lanman, the Sister of Ben Lanman who worked hard to bake a ton of sweet treats for her bake sale on Saturday, June 21st, 2008.

Liv also made bead bracelets, sold lemonade, ice pops and raised a very proud $100.00.  The idea was sprung into life by Liv who wanted to do something to help the cause, and we think this was an AWESOME idea! :)  GO LIV!!!!!

Liv was by Ben’s side through his whole fight with Ewing’s Sarcoma, and she has a lot of love in her heart for others in need.  This event was so thoughtful, sweet, and loving that we wanted to make sure that everyone knows how special Liv is - and what a great BIG sister she is as well!

Liv, thanks so much for all your hard work and those sweet treats!  Big hugs and cupcakes all around!

StevenIsLove

Steven’s Memory Travels To Japan

Filed under CD Volume 1, Jake's Notes by Jake Wheat on 12-06-2008

We are happy to report that we received an order from Japan, and our Volume 1 CD is now traveling across the world in Steven’s memory.

For those of you who don’t know, Steven loved to travel and having his CD go all the way to Japan is a big deal to us!  In recent weeks, we have also shipped to Canada, Austrailia, and of course Las Vegas!  Viva’ Las Vegas!

Everyone here at StompOutCancer.com is enjoying mailing out these CD’s to all of these wonderful places, and allowing Steven’s memory to travel with them.  Steven’s big dream was to travel to Rome, so we are hoping to be able to get an order from there! 

We only have 14 CD’s left in our inventory, so if you want your copy, please act fast because they are running out!  Special thanks to our dear friend in Japan who ordered our Volume 1 CD!   Being able to send this CD over to Japan is very special to us! 

102.7 Radio

Local Artist Donates Talent For Our Volume 2 Album Cover

Filed under Jake's Notes by Jake Wheat on 11-06-2008

Nancy Beck works on the album cover for Stomp Out Cancer, Volume 2Nancy Beck is a humanitarian who lives in Kentucky, and she has a passion for many things.  She loves horses, gardening, and one of her most talented passions is painting.

When I asked her if she would consider painting the album cover for our "Stomp Out Cancer Volume 2 CD," I was immediately presented with a grin and numerous sketches of ideas from Nancy that exploded into life on her canvas.

Clouds, balloons, and the power of hope are currently finding themselves artistically interpreted on Nancy’s canvas as she works to complete two paintings which will be incorporated into the CD as the album cover art.  Today, I had the fortunate ability to stop by her studio and view her work in progress, which overjoyed me.   The painting that she has done so far is breathtaking, with eleven balloons (Ben, the child we are honoring on our volume 2 cd) will be eleven the same day our CD releases!  There is so much color, and the balloons drift up into a nice range of clouds with a peek of sunlight and rays of hope which spray out in a comfortable warmth.

Nancy Beck’s contribution is one that we cherish, and of course - it’s something very near and dear to me because she is my Mother, and I love her very much.  Mom, you are so talented, and this is such a beautiful piece (or should I say pieces) that I am so excited to see! 

Because of Nancy’s contribution, a ray of HOPE will become a visual element that will be a part of our years campaign to help children and young adults have HOPE as well.

I love you Mom!

Sincerely,
Jake A. Wheat
President

102.7 Radio

Stomp Out Cancer Video: Hope

Filed under CD Volume 2, General Updates by Jake Wheat on 06-06-2008

Ben Lanman - Our Hero

Filed under Ben Lanman, CD Volume 2, General Updates, Press Releases by Jake Wheat on 03-06-2008

After returning from a family vacation to Disney World in October of 2005, my 8 year old son, Ben, complained of pain in his right thigh. We thought he had pulled a muscle from all the walking we had done, so we just had him rest it. The pain persisted for a few days and caused Ben to limp, so we took him in to see his pediatrician. An x-ray was ordered and did not reveal any abnormalities. We were told that Ben had probably strained a muscle or was experiencing growing pains. Then the pain left as quickly as it had come. Three weeks later it was back, but this time more severe. The pain was always worse at night. A second x-ray and blood work were ordered only to again reveal nothing abnormal. Then, once again, the pain disappeared.  When it came back a third time it was so extreme that it would wake him from sleep screaming in pain. He was given strong pain medication and muscle relaxers, but they only took the edge off.

Finally, an MRI was ordered and revealed an abnormality in Ben’s pelvis. We were told it could be an infection. We took the MRI films to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore to be reviewed. Ben was scheduled for a biopsy of the curious spot on his bone on December 29, 2005. On January 4th of 2006 we got a phone call telling us that Ben had Ewing’s Sarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer, in his right acetabulum, the cup-shaped socket of his hip bone. We had an appointment to meet the oncology team three days later. How do you tell an eight-year old that he has cancer? He didn’t really even know what cancer was. Barry and I decided not to tell Ben, to let the doctors do it because they would be able to answer any questions he may have better than we could. We had a million of our own questions. We were complete uneducated about Ewing’s sarcoma. That would soon change.  My heart hurt so badly in those three long days that I had to go to my church one afternoon to pray. At the altar I was soon surrounded by both pastors, their wives, the church secretaries, custodians and the youth minister. They each prayed such wonderful prayers for Ben and for my whole family, things I would’ve never thought to say. I could barely form any words, but while listening to these beautiful prayers for my beautiful boy I felt the most incredible peace wash over me. Those prayers reminded me that I serve a mighty God and I needed to turn it all over to Him! Knowing that He was in control and I was just along for the ride made it easier for me to just start doing what I had to do for my son. I went from a sobbing mess to a woman renewed with strength, ready to face this demon.  
 
Further scans and testing told us that, fortunately, Ben’s cancer had not metastasized to other bones or soft tissues in his body. He was immediately scheduled for surgery to put a central-line into his chest. Ben would require fourteen rounds of chemotherapy and sometimes daily blood drawing, so having a central line would allow all that to be done without constantly sticking him with needles. Chemotherapy was rough on his little body, but he handled it as best he could. Not too long after starting chemo Ben lost all his beautiful hair, even his eyebrows and eyelashes. He handled that very well. He also got so good at throwing up that he could tell a joke, puke, and then deliver the punch line without missing a beat. One of his chemo drugs caused horrible mucusitis, where ulcers form in your mouth, down your throat and all the way down your digestive tract to your bottom. That was the hardest part for Ben. He was so uncomfortable that it hurt him to even speak, and sometimes he couldn’t eat for days. He went from a healthy, glowing 55 lb. boy down to a pale, fragile 47 lb. boy. We spent a lot of time in the hospital. Every time his fever went to 100.4 or above we had to go to the emergency room. That happened quite a bit. Once we crossed the threshold of the ER we were admitted for a minimum of two days.
 
Once Ben was underway with a few rounds of chemo under his belt, we were given a choice of radiation or surgery to try to shrink or remove the tumor. Barry and I researched, questioned, and prayed about what was best for Ben. That was such a hard decision to make, not knowing what either would mean for Ben’s future. We finally decided that we wanted assurance that that tumor was dead, and the only way to do that was to remove it. So after four rounds of chemotherapy, on April 18, 2006, Ben had a right hemi-pelvectomy with partial resection of the femoral head or, plainly, his right hip was removed. That was the longest day of our lives. It took twelve hours. Dr. Kristy Weber, Ben’s surgeon, took my son completely apart, where at one point the only thing attaching his right leg to his body was the flap of skin on the back of his thigh. Every muscle, tendon, nerve, artery, and vein was cut, labeled and laid out on the operating table. She then used two saws to cut through my baby’s bones and take that tumor out. The remaining portion of the pelvis and the femur had holes drilled into them and were sewn back together using fiber wire. Then my son was slowly, carefully put back together. The scar that was left behind looked like a shark had bitten him. Thankfully, the cast covered it until it was healed. Dr. Weber felt confident that the area removed encompassed the entire tumor. Pathology came back days later confirming that, and confirming that the tumor was indeed dead.
 
After surgery Ben was put into a hip-spica cast—a body cast that started at his chest and went down to his toes on the right side and to just above the knee on his left side—which he wore for three months. An area was left open to allow him to go to the bathroom. He stayed at Hopkins for one week following his surgery. Getting him home was quite an ordeal. We had a special seatbelt vest to use to strap him into our vehicle. Thankfully, we have a van so that he could lie along the backseat. Whenever we went anywhere Ben was pushed around in a reclining wheelchair. He continued to have his chemotherapy every three weeks while in the cast. He had a tutor come to the house for the year that he missed school, so he managed to keep up with his classmates and graduate from third to fourth grade during this time.
 
Ben learned a lot about himself and others during his confinement in the cast. People would naturally stare at him with looks of pity. This made him very uncomfortable. He quickly learned that a smile and a quick “hi” would change their look of pity into a smile or even open the door to a conversation. That way people would quickly find out that he was “okay,” and needed more prayers than pity. Ben wanted nothing more than to be treated normally. He loves to laugh and to make people laugh. He had three different casts during those three months. Each time he would go in for a cast change he would have to be anesthetized because the doctors would have to suspend him in mid-air while they washed him and wrapped the new cast around his body. The docs always asked him what color cast he wanted before he went in. The last cast was put on in June and Ben knew it would be on through the 4th of July. He wanted it to be red, white and blue striped. We thought that was asking a bit much of the doctors, but much to our surprise, when Ben came out of the operating room he had the absolute coolest red, white and blue striped cast. He was so happy! The next day his tutor painted white stars on the blue part, so now he looked even more patriotic! That cast was a real conversation piece.  He had done really well for being so confined for so long. Toward the end he was getting antsy and agitated, and just wanted to be able to feel a hug. He had always been my snuggly boy who would just curl up into me when he slept…now he was missing that. 
 
Ben’s cast was finally removed on July 12th of 2006. We decided to keep it as a memento. It was like his protective shell for so long. He had gotten so comfortable in it and we were really good at toting him around. When it came off, he was so pale and skinny and weak.  He was afraid to move and didn’t want to be touched.  He started physical therapy immediately after, which was difficult on all of us. He hadn’t moved in three months and now they wanted him to try to walk. He couldn’t even bend his right knee for a few days. As frightened as he was, he wanted so badly to be on the move again. None of us knew just what he would be capable of doing without a hip. Surprisingly enough, though, Ben moved from a wheelchair to a walker to crutches to a cane to walking on his own in just three months. The doctors had told us it would take up to a year. Losing his hip also meant he lost 1 ½ inches on his right leg. He has to have his shoe built up so that he can walk with an even gait. Ben continued with chemotherapy until he the final round in November 2006. All scans and tests showed him to be cancer-free. The oncology clinic at Hopkins had a big end-of-chemo party for him, complete with a cake and gifts. Doctors, nurses, PAs and friends all gathered to celebrate. It was bitter/sweet. Of course, more sweet than bitter, but we had become so dependent on all these wonderful, knowledgeable, caring people and they had become such a part of our every day that it was hard to imagine not seeing them as often. 
 
Those first few weeks of not being tied to the hospital were just weird. We wondered if we would always have that black cloud that cancer brings hanging over us. Ben did something new every day. It was like having a toddler all over again. That Thanksgiving was the best ever. We had so much to be thankful for. Ben and our whole family had been so blessed throughout this whole journey. We slowly resumed ‘normalcy’ and Ben’s blood counts continued to rise. By Christmas his counts were almost normal, and a whole year had gone by since his initial biopsy. He and his sister, Olivia, had gotten Dance Dance Revolution for Christmas and they loved dancing on it. That was good therapy, too. He was able to start back to school when the Christmas break ended. He was so happy! His central line was removed in February after another round of tests and scans showed him still clear of cancer. He would now go back every three months for follow up scans and testing. 
 
Ben continued with physical therapy and was getting stronger every day. It’s hard to keep a ten-year old down. His hair started coming in nicely. It was great to see eyelashes again. By looking at him, you couldn’t tell that he was any different from any other kid. The only evidence left was the shoe with the lift on it, but that didn’t slow him down a bit. Much to our dismay, it wasn’t long until Ben was on his scooter again. Barry and I did our best to not overprotect him. We were told he probably wouldn’t be able to ride a bike again because of the around motion needed for pedaling. Well, nobody bothered telling Ben that. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to do it without a hip. His physical therapist and doctors were amazed by all that he could do. They even asked us to make a video of him doing all of it so they could share it with their colleagues. He certainly is a miracle! He continues to amaze us every day.
 
A year and a half has passed since the end of Ben’s treatment. He is doing wonderfully well. It’s hard to keep him still. He loves life. When he’s not outside playing on his scooter, skateboard, or bike, he’s usually playing basketball, video games or just hanging out with friends. He’s always busy. He’s loves music, so his I-Pod is in his ears most of the time. He was just in the talent show at his school, singing We Will Rock You. He eats like a teenager. I don’t know where he puts it because he’s still thin….but a healthy kind of thin. He’s getting taller every day. He just graduated from the 5th grade, so he’ll move on to middle school with 8th grader Olivia next year. He’s happy. He’s healthy. We’re blessed.

102.7 Radio

The Faces of Sarcoma

Filed under Doctor's Notes by dmloeb on 26-02-2008

I have to admit, I’ve been at a loss about what to say here. I want my contributions to this site to be helpful to whoever logs on, whether you are newly diagnosed and looking for help, or whether you know someone with Ewing’s sarcoma and are trying to learn more. I even want to be helpful to those of you who may be considering donating some of your hard-earned money to a good cause and want to be reassured that sarcoma research is worth supporting.
 
Tonight I decided upon a way to accomplish all of those goals. I found The Faces of Sarcoma. This is a website where people can post their own picture, or the picture of a loved one… anyone who was diagnosed with a sarcoma. The pictures are powerful in so many ways. Look at the diversity – there are young children and older adults. Look at where they are from – so many countries are represented. But most of all, look and see how few look like a stereotypical cancer patient. These are people just like you and me, who just happen to have been diagnosed with a sarcoma. They are the reason doctors like me keep fighting. They are the reason people like Jake Wheat make websites like this one.
 
If you have a sarcoma, go look, so you won’t feel so alone. If you are interested in sarcoma research, go look, so you’ll realize how important it is. Just go look. You’ll be glad you did.
 
David M. Loeb, MD, PhD

102.7 Radio

Ewing’s Sarcoma Research News

Filed under Doctor's Notes by dmloeb on 10-01-2008

One of the most exciting trends in cancer research is the new focus on stem cells.  No, not the embryonic stem cells that have ethicists debating the merits of cells that are obtained from a human embryo, but cancer stem cells.  When I was in medical school, we were taught that every cell in a tumor was the same, and all of them were capable of limitless growth and of spreading from the primary tumor. 

It turns out that that is probably not true. 

Many tumors seem to be made up of a large bulk population and a small subpopulation of cells with many characteristics of stem cells.  These so-called cancer stem cells are resistant to chemotherapy, can proliferate indefinitely, and can produce not only the bulk of a tumor but also more of themselves (a process called self renewal).

 Does Ewing’s sarcoma have stem cells?  No one knows for sure, but a group of scientists in France conducted experiments that appear to say "yes".  As many of you know, Ewing’s sarcoma is characterized by a chromosome translocation that results in the production of a protein called EWS/Fli1.  EWS/Fli1 is found in Ewing’s sarcoma but no other cell types, and is thought to be the major cause of Ewing’s sarcoma.  The French scientists came up with a way of turning off EWS/Fli1 in Ewing’s sarcoma cells in the lab.  They then examined all of the genes that were active in the Ewing’s sarcoma cells before and after turning off EWS/Fli1.  They compared these "gene expression profiles" with the profiles of other cells, and found that the gene expression profile of Ewing’s sarcoma cells with EWS/Fli1 turned off bears a striking resemblance to the gene expression profile of a cell type called mesenchymal stem cells.

What does this mean?  I think it means a couple of things.  First of all, it suggests that possibility that Ewing’s sarcoma arises from mesenchymal stem cells.  The cell of origin of Ewing’s sarcoma has remained a mystery since Dr. Ewing first described what he called "endothelioma of bone."  Research from the past decade has suggested several different possible "sources" for Ewing’s sarcoma, but none of the experiments were definitive.  Although the experiments the French scientists reported are not definitive either, the idea that Ewing’s sarcoma comes from a mesenchymal stem cell makes a lot of sense in the context of everything known about Ewing’s sarcoma biology.

In addition to shedding some light on the cell of origin of Ewing’s sarcoma, these results strengthen the idea that Ewing’s sarcoma stem cells exist.  This is because many of the genes that remained active in the cells that had EWS/Fli1 turned off were genes that are typically active in stem cells in general.  So even if the similarity to mesenchymal stem cells is a coincidence, this group’s data still supports the idea of Ewing’s sarcoma stem cells.

It will be exciting to follow this research as it unfolds.  If it turns out that Ewing’s sarcoma is a tumor of mesenchymal stem cells, this may lead to important new understanding of the biology of this cancer that might eventually alter how it is treated.  If it turns out that Ewing’s sarcoma contains stem cells, and if these stem cells are as important as we expect, future research will undoubtedly aim at developing therapies targeted at Ewing’s sarcoma stem cells, and these therapies will probably profoundly change not only how we treat this disease, but the outcomes for patients.

David Loeb, MD, PhD

102.7 Radio